Feel the Pain
by Degonda
Summary: When Sam's visions spiral out of control, Dean will have more to worry about than just headaches. This is the first fanfiction I've ever written, so please REVIEW. And now it is over... check out the last chapter and Version B of this story will be comi
1. The Vampire Warrior

**Feel The Pain**

Summary: When Sam's visions spiral out of control, Dean will have more to worry about than just headaches.

Rated PG-13 for violence acts, gruesome imagery, and some language

Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural, much to my disappointment

**Chapter 1: The Vampire Warrior/First Pain**

The warehouse was huge. She knew this was the right place, but never expected for them to stay in such a frickin' big place. Glancing up, there were easily ten floors in the building. This was going to take a while and it was already almost dawn.

The Warrior ran across the parking lot without a sound, the result of training her entire life. Her ears strained to listen for anyone who might be watching for her, even though she knew that if any of them heard her, she wouldn't live long enough to care. Flattening herself against the wall, she felt how fast her heart was beating in anticipation of the fight. Willing herself to calm down, she gripped her battle ax, felt the comforting weight of the bow and arrows against her back. Better get to work.

Slipping into the door, she glanced around. So far, so good. Kneeling, she whispered a quick prayer to the Unknown Glorious One.

"Darlin', if praying helped, we would have died out a long time ago."

The Warrior whipped her head up. How in hell did Varsius manage to get so close so fast? Not to mention the twenty or so other vamps standing on the balcony above her. She cursed herself. She knew she had grown cocky in the recent months, but never thought this would happen. The Warrior flicked her eyes across the room, taking in the view. This nest was bigger than she thought, but they shouldn't be a problem. The real challenge stood before her. Pulling herself up, she stared into Varsius's black eyes.

"Nice to see you again. How's your mom?"

"You tell me. You're the one who drained her dry."

"Well, yes. She was incredibly delectable. But I doubt she would compare to your blood." Without skipping a beat, the young girl shifted her weight, allowing easier access to the stakes in her sleeves. Man, was she glad she decided to come tonight packed. Extra weapons didn't always make the job easier. Just a bit more fun.

"Oh I don't know. I've always considered myself a bit too much for vamp's tastes."

"There's only one way to find out." Varsius glanced at her neck, the hunger radiating from his eyes.

"Okay, this is just getting annoying. Can we please just fight now?" The Warrior rolled her eyes, tired of these games. Varsius wasn't fazed. It would take more than a smart mouthed little bitch to discourage him and he had killed plenty of those in his lifetime. Shrugging slight, he nodded.

"All right then." Time seemed to stop. No, not stop, but almost. Everything happened in slow motion, and yet the Warrior felt herself still moving in real time. This always happened during the hunt and it thrilled her to feel this alive. There's nothing like fighting for your life with the blood pounding in your ears. Glancing up, she watched as every vampire flew down, shrieking in ecstasy. She smiled. This was too easy.

Dust filled the air. Breath rushed in her lungs. The Warrior knew the hunt. She lived for this. She was the destroyer of evil. Twenty new born vamps were barely a challenge. As the air cleared, she stood alone, stake and ax in hand. Glancing up, she stared into Varsius's eyes, her face saying one thing. "You're next."

Varsius stood, waiting. He knew she would make the first move and would simply wait until she did. He was right.

In a blink of an eye, she flung her ax at his neck. She could see the comprehension in his eyes as he realized he underestimated her. She missed her mark, but still cut a chunk off. He hissed at his bleeding shoulder, baring his fangs at the girl. That hurt. No one had made him bleed in centuries and this little bitch sure wasn't going to be the one to kill him.

The warrior gasped. She missed. She hadn't missed in a very long time and this was definitely going to be the last time that happened. Varsius stood there, waiting again for her to move. The young girl smiled. He was going to be sorry he didn't move. With a single flip, she cut the distance between the two fighters in half, hurling the stake toward his chest as her body sprung up again. Except it didn't. She looked at the stake, not believing her eyes. It's not possible. He caught it. She glanced at Varsius, glimpsing the pure glee and satisfaction emanate from his eyes. The stake was flying again. No, this can't be right. Pain seared as the stake pierced her chest, grating against her chest bone as it went almost the full foot in. She fell to the floor, struggling for breath. Bloody bubbles poured out her mouth. Oh god, the pain. It was more than anyone should ever have to deal with. A haze covered her eyes as the blood poured from her body. A fresh pain blossomed on her chest as her heart began to slow. All the warrior could do was scream silently.

………………………………………………………………………………………………

"No. No! NOOO!" Sam's panicked eyes flew open, searching for something familiar. He found it as his eyes crossed his brother, sitting across the hotel room at a table with a Winchester rifle in hand. The rest of the weaponry and some cleaning supplies lay out on the table. It was obvious Dean had been awake for some time.

"Mornin' Sleeping Beauty." Dean glanced at Sam, a grin flashing across his face. "Not the best way to wake up, huh?"

"No, it's really not." Sam squeezed his eyes close again, trying to block out the sun rays blaring through the window directed onto his face. Oh, what a beautiful frickin' morning.

"Vision or nightmare?" Dean asked casually. This was routine now; Sam waking up screaming and Dean checking to see if they had gotten a "mind email" about where to head next. Lately, more often that not, the dreams were only nightmares. Poor kid would probably never get over these stupid dreams.

"I don't know Dean." Sam sat up, leading his back against the head board, running his fingers through his long hair. He couldn't shake the image from his mind. The girl, laying on the floor, bleeding to death, in excruciating pain. Dying. "It felt… different."

Confusion crossed Dean's face. "Different? Like now you got a brand spankin' new kind of 'shinning' thing on top of the nightmares and visions?"

"No. It… I don't know. It just… doesn't feel like what they feel like, but it's really close." Sam sighed, rubbing his temples.

"You ok, Sam?"

"Yeah, just a headache."

Dean though for a second before turning back to the gun in hand. "Headache means vision, right?"

Sam grimaced as the pain increased slightly. "Yeah, usually. This one felt really familiar though. Like I already…" Sam's voice cut of suddenly as his throat closed, shortening his air supply.

"Well, don't hold me in suspense Sammy-boy." Dean called out without turning around. "I'm dying to hear how a vision feels on the brain. Kind of like a rough massage, right?" grinned Dean, laughing inwardly at his own joke as he knew just how wrong that description was. Wait, Sam never answered me. "Sam?" Glancing behind, he saw his brother's mouth move soundlessly, hands gripping his chest with his eyes screwed closed against the pain.

"Sam!" Dropping the gun, Dean leaped over his bed in a single jump, grasping his brother's face. It was both cold and scorching hot at the same time. Sweat began pouring off his brow. Something wasn't right. Without realizing it, Dean's thoughts ran through the actions of last night's hunt. They had been fine. Sam wasn't even touched by the ghost, so there weren't any injuries. Nothing that could have caused this pain.

"Sam, what hurts? What's wrong!" Panic and helplessness started to fill his mind as Sam grew pale and whimpered slightly with pain. All of a sudden, Sam's eyes burst open, flaring in pain, his mouth screaming a soundless scream. His head rolled down, staring at his bare chest.

Dean looked down. Without warning, a gaping hole ruptured on his brother's chest, spurting blood like a geyser. "No no no no!" Dean repeated over and over as he pressed his hands on the gap. Sam stared into Dean's eyes, filled with horror at what just happened. Blood kept flowing, barely slowed down by Dean's efforts. Sam became ghostly white as his body quickly began to run out of blood. A haze began to close over his eyes. A tear ran downSam cheek as the pain flared across his chest.

This is my first fanfiction, so please REVIEW! And it's ok to be rude, I'll take it as critical critiquing. :)

Chapter 2 is coming as soon as I write it. Hehehe.


	2. Verson A The Recovery

_**Authors note**: I started writing this story with a specific ending in mind. While writing this chapter, I thought of a second ending and now I cannot decide which I like better. Therefore, I will be writing two versions of this story. The original ending will be first and be version A, the second ending version B. I will finish writing all of version A first, so not to worry about confusing the stories._

Summary: When Sam's visions begin to evolve, Dean will have more to worry about than just headaches.

Rated PG-13 for violence acts, gruesome imagery, and some language

Disclaimer: blah blah, I don't own them, blah blah

**Chapter 2: The Recovery**

Dean watched as the blood continued to flow and a glaze covered the eyes of his baby brother.

"Sam? Sammy, you still with me?" His eyes had almost completely closed, lost to the pain. A wave of helplessness hit Dean straight on, quickly followed by panic. And what does Dean Winchester do when he panics?

**WHAP!** "SAMMY, WAKE UP!" screamed Dean into his face. Sam's eyes popped open, startled at how the stinging of his cheek overrode the pain in his chest.

"Dean…" Sam gasped. _Wait a minute. He could speak. He could breath again_.

Dean creased his brow, confusion replacing the panic. Looking down on his brother's chest, he could see the blood flow slowing down to a mere trickle. He risked a quick glance and lifted his hands. Both brothers gasped as the hole sealed itself, stopping the blood entirely. Sam looked up and caught Dean staring him in the face.

"Uuhhhhhh…" was all Sam could get out.

"You could say that again" Dean stared. "Are you okay? Does it hurt?"

"Yeah, it's a bit sore." Sam struggled to sit up. Dean quickly got up, putting an arm around his back for support. Glancing down at the bed, Sam gasped in horror. "This all came from me? How?" He whispered, indicating the blood-soaked sheets with a shaking hand.

Dean grunted, not wanting to admit the same question was flashing through his mind. "Let's get you cleaned up. We'll figure this out, but right now I need to check your chest."

Leaning on Dean for support, they slowly crossed the room to the brightly lit bathroom. Sam lowered himself onto the toilet as Dean grabbed a washcloth and started wiping the blood off Sam's chest. Sam closed his eyes, trying to calm his heartbeat, when he realized for the first time, he didn't have a headache. The corners of his mouth twitched at the irony. _All I had to do was almost bleed to death. Of course, why didn't I think if that before._

"Sam, look." Dean's voice snapped him out of his daydream and looked at his chest. A large lump of scar tissue protruded from the exact point where the hole had been. Dean poked it with a finger, causing Sam to gasp in pain.

"Dude!"

"Sorry." Dean mumbled, lost in thought.

"No, no, it's okay. I was just stabbed through the chest with a stake and you thought poking it would make it all better." Dean looked up at Sam with a look of confusion. "What?"

"Sam, you weren't stabbed with a stake. You weren't stabbed with anything; your chest just started bleeding." Dean studied his brother with a renewed concern. "You don't remember that?"

"Oh." Sam's eyes shifted away, embarrassed. "It just felt like I was. Like… like in my nightmare."

"You saw yourself get stabbed in a vision and you didn't say anything! Dude, those things come true." Dean practically shouted, jumping up and stared Sam in the face.

"No, no. Of course I didn't see myself. I saw a girl get stabbed. I felt her get stabbed. I… I felt her die." Sam closed his eyes at the memory.

"So you think it was a vision?" Dean turned to wash the bloodstains off his hands, suppressing a shudder.

Sam's head snapped up. "Oh my god, we have to find her. We gotta go!" Sam jumped off the toilet, only to fall back down as the vertigo hit him.

"Whoa Sammy. Just hang on." Dean grabbed his shoulders, staring into his eyes. "We'll find her, but you gotta rest first, get your strength back.

"Dean, there is no way I'm going to sleep right now. We gotta find this girl. There was something about her… she is important and we can't let her die." Sam stood, walked into the bedroom, grabbing his laptop from his bag and sat down at a clear area of the table. Dean grabbed some of the weapons, putting the cleaned ones in his weapon bag. _Was it really only a few minutes ago he had been cleaning them?_ With Sam on the computer and Dean not willing to leave him alone to go research at the local library, he settled back down to finish cleaning the weapons.

……………………………………………………………………………………………...

Sam gave a world shattering sigh of frustration. He had been searching on the laptop for twelve hours straight and had come up with pretty much nada. Stretching his back out, he gave a quiet gasp of pain. Damn, he had almost forgotten about his chest.

Looking around, he noticed Dean wasn't in the room. The bathroom was empty except for the blood stained sheets soaking in the bathtub. Sam mentally winced at the memory. _I am not going to forget this day anytime soon._ Hearing the door creak open, he swung around to see Dean walk in, hands full of coffee and a bag of food.

"Hey, nice to see your hands aren't permanently attached to the keyboard anymore, brother." Dean grinned. "You didn't even move when I told you I was grabbing some food."

"Sorry." Sam blinked, grabbing a cup of coffee and started going thru the bag of food, finding sandwiches and potato chips, along with plenty of M&Ms and other bags of junk food.

"So what you got so far? Last I heard, you were mumbling about some girl staking you." Dean lay down on his bed with food in hand.

"No, a vampire staked me. I mean her… I was watching through her eyes, so it was kind of me." Sam sighed in frustration. "She was a hunter, going after a nest of vamps."

"A whole nest? Holy crap, no wonder she died." Dean chomped down on his sandwich, missing Sam glaring in his direction.

"No man. She was amazing. She killed every single one except the Chiang-Shih. That's a really vicious vampire, originating from China. He can destroy entire villages in a single night by himself, even kill weak humans with a glance. He is usually the oldest and very powerful. I think I figured out why she feels important though. I think she was a Dhampir, a child of a vampire, probably her dad. A Dhampir can recognize a vampire right away and has almost superhuman strength, making her a rare human who can kill vamps and barely break a sweat. That's how she kills the entire nest, but I guess it's not enough."

"So this Chang sky-guy kills the dampener-girl?"

"Yeah. The only problem is I can't find anything about this nest. I mean, that warehouse was huge. It had to be part of a major company, but I can't find anything about it. There aren't any missing person reports of victims in an area with big warehouses that jump out. I don't even know what state this is gonna happen in. DAMN IT!" Sam shot out of his seat, throwing his sandwich onto the table and hung his head. "We aren't going to save this girl in time."

"Oh come on Sammy. Remember your vision of Jenny at our old house? That one didn't happen for days."

"Yeah, I guess." Sam lay down on his bed, noticing for the first time the sheet were new. "Where'd you get these?"

Dean tried to hide his smile with a sip of coffee. "I uh… I told the manager you wet your bed."

"DEAN!" Dean burst out laughing, unable to hold it in anymore. Sam rolled his eyes. "Great. You're going to have to check us out now, cause there is no way I'm going up to him."

"Oh come on. It's easier to say that than my brother's chest exploded."

"True." Sam breathed out. His mind was starting to catch up to his body, realizing just how tired he was. "So what do you think we should do about this girl?"

"I don't know. We're just going to have to keep looking until we find something"

"Okay, that sounds… yeah, that sounds good."

"You okay Sammy?" Dean got up and walked over to Sam, pressing a hand on his head, eyes searching his chest for blood.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm just tired."

"You sure you want to fall asleep again? I don't want to see another rendition of Alien in here"

"No, it's okay. I just… I need to get some strength back." Sam was quickly slipping away, feeling the bliss of sleep creeping into his bones.

"Okay. I'll be right here Sammy." Dean whispered, sitting on his bed, staring at his brother who had already fallen asleep without hearing that last promise. _Please, please don't let him have that vision again_. Dean brushed Sam's hair off his face, watching his face for any sign of pain. _Damn it Sammy, you just have to be attacked by the one thing I can't protect you from_. Dean sighed. _Life sucks_.

_Sorry there wasn't any action in this chapter, but I had to make one to connect the first chapter to the next action part.  So please review and chapter 3 is coming soon._


	3. Second Pain

_Author's note: I am so sorry it has taken so long to update, but I have a really good reason. I wrote almost all of the next chapter and when I finished it, I realized it should take place after the second vision, so I had to write this entire chapter too before I could put up another post. Hopefully, it will live up to everyone's expectations. But the next chapter will definitely be coming soon because it is already almost completely written. Enjoy!_

Rated PG-13 for violence acts, gruesome imagery, and some language

**Chapter 3: The Second Pain**

The man grunted in pain. His knees weren't what they used to be. He pulled his car over, trying to bear the pain without success. And that last poltergeist throwing him through a wall sure didn't help. _I'm getting too old for this._ Yes, that certainly was true. He was getting old and in his line of work, getting old meant getting dead.

Reaching into his backpack on the passenger seat, he pulled out his bottle of pain killers. They had been prescribed years ago for a couple badly broken ribs. Thankfully, he was a master of forging labels and had kept the pills coming.

He popped a pill, waiting for it to kick in. _Old. Ha! Normal people wouldn't be old at 42. Normal people have a bed they can call their own for more than a week or two. Normal people don't pass down a bag full of weapons to the next generation, demanding them to stay in the family business without actually saying it._ The man shook his head and pulled the car onto the road once more. Never before had he actually sat and contemplated their life style and it wasn't something he felt comfortable doing. He glanced in the rearview mirror, finding his daughter asleep on the backseat. Krissy had been unconscious before her head had hit the seat a few hours ago, forcing him to do the driving for the night. He smiled at the memory of how well she had handled that poltergeist after he was knocked down. Who was he kidding? She kicked its non-existent ass. She had been well trained, having sparring practices and weapons training instead of bowling nights and nervous first dates her whole life. For a 16 year old, she was impressively well adjusted to their style of life, especially without a mother in the picture.

The man had never felt self doubt about how he had raised his daughter, simply wished for an easier one. One that didn't put her life on the line by the day. He sighed. _What I wouldn't do for-_ _SHIT!_

His thought cut off as something sprinted across the road, missing his car by inches. The brakes screeched as the car slammed to a stop. He winced when he felt the bump of Krissy falling off the seat at the sudden stop.

"Dad? What the hell?" The young girl groaned, still half-asleep.

"Kris, grab your pack." The engine cut out as he pulled the car off the road.

She was suddenly awake, instinct and training kicking in. "What is it?"

"A Karushka, I think. It just ran in front of the car. I almost hit it."

"A Karushka? You're kidding right?" Her father shook his head. "Good thing you didn't hit it, cause that would have pissed it off. Not to mention not doing a thing to kill it. Only ketoret bullets will do that." Krissy pulled an extra shirt over her head and started pulling her hair back, fully awake by now. "Yay for the 11 Holy Spices of Israel."

Her father turned in his seat, surprise evident on his face. "How do you know about Karushkas? We've never faced one before."

She gave him her best oh-please-I'm-not-stupid face. "Dad. You aren't the only one who can research the things that go bump in the night. You must have mentioned it once and I remember the research I did on it. No biggie." She grabbed her backpack, suddenly uncomfortable with the sudden attention to her secret passion.

"No, I'm impressed. God knows at your age, my father had to glue a book to my hand to make me research." They quickly went to the back of the car, popping open the trunk and grabbed some basic weapons: knives, a few hand guns, a shotgun each, and a cross just to be safe.

"They don't call the internet man's greatest invention for nothing, Dad." Krissy glanced at her father from the corner of her eye, a smile dancing on her face.

"Actually, I think that was the wheel."

"Oh please. What has the wheel ever done for us?" She loved baiting her father, knowing he hated the computer.

"You finished little lady?" He asked, the question aimed toward both teasing him and gathering the weapons.

"Yup." She slammed the door closed. "Dad, are you sure it was a Karushka? They aren't known for being in these areas. And running into one as we are driving through? That's a big coincidence."

"I know Krissy. But I know a demon when I see one." He turned away, looking toward the area the demon had vanished into.

"Okay. Just checking. It just seems weird. And you were driving in the dark, so how could you really id the thing?"

"Because I've been doing this my whole life and I trust my eyes." With that, their conversation ended. They started walking toward the small wooded area off the side of the road, almost matching in stride. The young girl cast a quick glance at her father, taking in his appearance, which included a slight limp.

"How you holding up, old man?" He shrugged nonchalantly. "That poltergeist got you bad, Dad. You sure you want to take on this thing so soon?"

"Krissy, I'll be fine." His voice was a little sharper than he intended, but her questions were starting to irritate him. "Just cover my back and I'll cover yours." They continued walking in silence, both lost in thought.

………………………………………………………………………………………………

"There it is." A cave mouth sat looming in front of the hunters, challenging them to enter. "The demon should be in there, seeing as they like dark places."

Quickly, they organized themselves, placing all weapons within reach on their bodies. This was routine for them, having spent their lives hunting together. He glanced at his daughter, watching her muscles begin to tense and her cheeks flush. He knew she would be nervous until they found the thing. Then his baby would shine.

"Ready?" Krissy nodded, her lips tight as if to keep herself from vomiting. She could have been mistaken for terrified if there wasn't that fire of excitement in her eyes.

They walked into the cave, shoulder to shoulder. A faint breeze blew against their faces, raising the hairs on the back of the man's neck. The breeze was cold, and kept getting colder the farther they moved into the cave. _That's odd. Shouldn't it get warmer?_

Without warning, the temperature plummeted, making them both shiver uncontrollably in their thin clothes.

"Cold pocket" he muttered. He looked over at his daughter, checking to make sure she was okay. Instead, his eyes found a white clawed hand reaching out of the darkness.

"GET DOWN!" He swung his shotgun around, perfectly timing the shot as Krissy's head dropped out of the target. A squeal of pain emitted from the dark. Krissy scrambled away, jumping up behind her father.

"Did you get it?"

"Yeah, I think-" Suddenly, a shadow jumped from the darkness, slamming him against the cave wall. His chest began to burn where the demon held him up. _That's not right._ He looked into the demon's face, taking in the lack of eyes and wide mouth. His eyes widened in horror.

"It's not a Karushka! Krissy! It's a Gelu-cruor!" The demon slammed his body against the wall once again, knocking the wind out of him. His body dropped as the thing turned to find the girl.

"Dad! What the fuck is a Gulu whatever!" She raised her gun, firing into the thing's chest. _It's not working. DAMN IT!_ Her gun clicked as the amo ran out. Her father was still on the ground, trying to catch his breath. She stared at the demon, wracking her brain, trying to find any knowledge about the thing standing in front of her. The demon darted forward again, placing it's claws on her face and chest. She gasped at how cold the hands were. The shock was so much. She couldn't move, couldn't breathe, couldn't think. She looked up, a whimper escaping her lips.

The man looked up, finally able to breathe again. His breath cut out again when he saw his daughter standing in the grasp of the Gelu-cruor. _Why wasn't she fighting? She shouldn't let it touch her!_ He stood up, the pain in his lungs barely registering when he saw his daughter's body fall. Her back hit the floor. A crack sounded in the cave, echoing off the walls as her body shattered like glass into a million pieces of colored ice.

"NOOOOOO!" He rushed forward and fell to his knees. _My baby! MY BABY!_ His hands grasped the crystals, trying to hold onto his little girl. The tiny bits of ice fell through his fingers, melting on contact with his skin. _No, no no no no no. She's not suppose to die before me. SHE'S NOT SUPPOSE TO!_

With a scream loud enough to wake the dead, the man turned to face his daughter's murderer. He stood, clenching his fists, the rage rolling through his body uncontrolled. He strode forward, completely unaware of his actions. He pulled his arm back, slamming his fist into the thing's face. The demon didn't even flinch at the contact. _You killed her! Why did you kill her! _The man threw another punch and another and another. His hands began to bleed as the demon's face refused to give in to the beating. Pain flared up his arm as he felt his wrist snap. His strength was failing. _Krissy was right. I wasn't ready yet._

The fire had left the man's eyes. He stood, waiting for it to come. The demon stepped forward and placed his claw on the man's chest. He expected searing pain, burning. Anything. All he felt was the claw on his chest. A slight tingle began to trickle down his back, giving him pins and needles. His lungs began to burn as the air grew cold. His breath clouded, impossibly cold to how feverish he felt. His body began to shake, unable to control the shivering. Ice began to form in his eyes, cutting off his vision. Exhaustion seized him as the haze covered his eyes and his mind became sluggish. Darkness took him and his body fell with one final thought. _Krissy._

………………………………………………………………………………………………

"Krissy" Sam gasped, opening his eyes. That was… different. Sam blinked his eyes again, making sure he was awake. The lack of pain threw him off, making him unsure of how he should feel. He looked over and found Dean asleep on the bed next to him, his feet still touching the floor so it looked like he felt straight back onto his back asleep. Sam grinned. He must have been watching him sleep, making sure he didn't start growing holes in his body again. Glancing at the clock, he saw he had been asleep for at least 12 hours. And his bladder realized this immediately after his head did.

Quietly, Sam stood up and went to the bathroom to relieve himself. After he finished, he ran the sink for a moment, throwing cold water on his face. He stood, staring at his reflection in the mirror. _Why did I get another vision already?_ Sam studied, his face, impressed at the returning color. Much better than last time he looked. He shook his head, clearing his thoughts. _Why do I feel so weird? _Most visions left him in a state of pure panic or at least fear of what was to come. The need to save the victim had always been there. _So why isn't it now? Why don't I feel the need to save that girl and her father?_ He felt… good. And that in itself was enough to make him suspicious. Sam grabbed a towel, wiping his face dry.

Sam walked back to the beds and grabbed a bag of chips off the table, ignoring the nagging in his brain and slight tingle in his back. _Maybe I should count my blessings… actually appreciate it when my head doesn't explode with pain when I wake up. But that last vision was still pretty odd._ The first one had left him with dread and uncertainty. This one… it was filled with something else. The girl killed by the vampire had felt like it was him who died. This time, he had to watch his daughter die and feel the pain of a father losing his family. Something wasn't right. _I should wake Dean._ He looked at the bag of chips about to be eaten. He moved over Dean's sleeping form with a devilish grin on his face. _Yes, he should wake up._

**POP!** Dean leaped out of bed, his eyes wide in panic as the bag of chips exploded over his head. He caught Sam's eye, who was laughing so hard he felt his face might crack.

"Dude, that was so wrong." Dean pulled himself up off the floor, wiping chips from his head. Sam flopped onto his bed, grinning. Dean scowled at him for a moment before realizing he was awake.

"Sam, you're awake."

Sam tilted his head, grinning. "Yes, Dean. I am awake."

"No, I mean you're awake-awake. Like okay-awake! Did you have another? Another… vision thingy?" Dean walked to his brother and grabbed his head in his hands, studying his face for signs of pain.

Sam pulled away. "Well… it… it wasn't exactly like last time."

"What do you mean it wasn't exactly like last time? Dude, last time you were left with a hole in your chest. I'd say that gives me a reason to be worried."

"I know, but this time I wasn't…" Sam bowed his head, sighing. _I knew it was too good to be true. The damn headache was making its appearance_.

"What Sam? Stabbed? Dead?"

"No, I wasn't alone. I… he had a daughter. They were hunting together." Sam was finding it hard to piece it together. _This was getting weirder by the minute. The first oneI could remember in detail. Why did the second one break apart the second I think about it? _Sam shivered._ And who the hell turned down the temperature in the room?_

"And did they die?" Dean kneeled in front of his brother, the panic beginning to build in his chest as he watched Sam struggled with the memory.

"Yeah… I… it was a Gelu… Gelu-cr… A weird something." Sam started rubbing his arms, trying to gather a bit of heat.

"Dude, are you okay?"

"Yeah, just a little sore. My arms must have fallen asleep… pins and needles."

"Okay, but what did you see? Last time you nearly died because of your shinning shit and I need to know what to-"

"Dean!" Sam's head snapped up, his eyes wide in horror. He looked back down at his hands. They were shaking and turning white, but what scared Sammy more was that they had gone completely numb. The tremors climbed up his arms, quickly followed by the paling skin.

"Dean, I can't feel…" Sam looked into Dean's eyes, dread setting in as his head began to jerk. Dean grabbed his shoulders, but pulled away instantly, pain grasping his fingers.

"Dude, you're freezing!" Dean began to panic. _What the hell is going on?_ Getting an idea, Dean seized a pillow and used it to push his brother flat onto the bed. Sam continued seizing, thrashing all over the bed. He watched as Sam's breath became visible and crystals formed under his eyes.

"God damn it Sam, not again!" Dean stood, watching the shivers wracked his brother's body.

_Sorry, but I had to leave it as a cliff hanger... it's the evil part of me. _

_The demon's names are made up, but I did do some research to make it a bit more real. The 11 Holy spices of Israel do exist, although I've never found them being put into bullets. :) And Gelu-cruor is latin and roughly translates into "cold blood"._

_The next two chapters will be up in a day or two, depending how busy I am. Please review! They really do help!_


	4. Only More Questions

Disclaimer: blah blah blah... I don't own Supernatural, or the boys... blah blah blah.

Rated PG-13 for violence acts, gruesome imagery, and some language

"God damn it Sam, not again!" Dean stood, watching the shivers wracked his brother's body. _Cold. He's cold, so I should make him warm!_ Dean gathered his brother in the sheets, carrying him to the bathroom. Setting him on the floor gently, he turned the bathtub faucets on full blast. Dean gathered his little brother in the sheets, rubbing his arms in an attempt to warm him while the tub filled.

_Come on… come on!_ Dean watched the water inch up, willing it to move faster. Glancing at Sam, he saw his fears were already reality. His lips were turning blue, his eyes fluttering in and out of consciousness. A thin layer of frost had appeared on his cheeks and his breathing became even more labored as he tried to get oxygen past the ice in his throat. Dean decided he had waiting long enough.

"Come on Sammy. You're doing great, little guy. Let's just get you into this warm water." Dean struggled to lift his brother, whose chill seemed to penetrate the sheets now. He lowered Sam into the tub, water sloshing over the edge. Sam cried out in pain as the water touched his skin. The sheets ballooned out against the water, then quickly sunk to the bottom, sucking up the water.

Dean kneeled next to the bathtub, holding his brother by the shoulder to keep him from drowning. "Come on Sam." Slowly, Sam's spasms faded to a small shiver with a slight jerk every few seconds. Dean sat, unable to think of what else to do. He placed two fingers on his neck, feeling apulse. It was faint, but there. He stared at his pale brother, still shaking despite the heat the water gave off. _What the hell is going on Sammy?_ "Come on… help me out, little brother." A tear threatened to fall from his eye. "I don't know what to do."

Minutes passed, feeling like hours. Dean watched Sam, searching for any sign of consciousness. "Come on… come on." He muttered, keeping in beat with his brother's neck spasms. "Heal already."

As if he had been waiting to hear those words, Sam suddenly stopped shivering. Color slowly blossomed back into his cheeks and his breathing evened. "Sam?" Dean whispered, almost afraid to hear a response.

Sam's head lobed to the side, his eyes fluttering open. He tried to speak, finding his tongue too thick to made words. "Hmm auitha wheeaaa…"

"Oh Sam." Dean pulled his brother up, grasping him in a chest shattering embrace. "Oh god, Sammy."

"Dean… I'm wet." Dean let out a relieved half laugh, half sob.

"Yeah Sammy. Sorry about that, but I figured you could use a shower."

Sam pulled away, confusion filling his clearing eyes. "Huh?"

"Never mind."

Dean pulled Sam up, leaning him against the shower wall. He quickly grabbed a towel and started rubbing his brother's arms dry. Sam reached up to his cheek, pulling away a thin layer of ice. "Wow. I really did freeze."

Dean glanced up, not wanting to acknowledge what had happened for the past few minutes. "Okay Sammy, step out. Let's get you into some dry clothes." Dean wrapped his arm around his waist, supporting his thin frame. He steered Sam toward the beds, who let out a slight chuckle.

"Lost the sheets again, huh?"

"Yeah." Dean grinned. "Looks like I won't be lying about you wetting the bed this time. Manager's going to be pissed."

"Dude, that's weak." Sam slowly peeled off his dripping shirt. "God, I feel like I was run over by a truck. In December. Naked."

Dean grinned a little bit at that image. "So I'm going to go out on a limb and say that vision had you freeze to death?"

Sam rolled his eyes as he pulled a dry tee-shirt on. "Yeah. It was a demon, a Gelu-cruor, I think. It sucked body heat out through his hands."

"Huh? I haven't heard of one of those making an appearance in a few years."

"Yeah, well, this one is going to kill a father and daughter. But Dean, this is a whole new ballgame. The victims, they are hunters. Like us."

Dean nodded, impressed. "That makes our job easier."

"No fake ids, no stupid cover story."

"No Sammy. We just call around and find out who knows of a father/daughter tag team. We track 'em, find 'em, save 'em. Easy."

"Yeah, I guess." Sam sat on Dean's bed, staring at his hands in thought. "We still have to find the girl before those vampires get her though."

"Yeah… but do your visions even have a first come, first serve policy? I mean, we have to find the girl, not to mention getting to her and keeping her from being lunch."

"Dean, I know, but I don't think we can count on any rules here. I mean, come one. One day I'm suddenly bleeding out off my chest and the next I'm a popsicle. The only thing I'm sure of is whatever I see happen to someone will happen to me. I don't even know why, let alone how." Sam leaned over, holding his head in his hands.

Dean sat next to him, nudging his shoulder gently. "It's okay Sammy. We'll figure this out. We always do." Sam looked up, his eyes heavy with fatigue and fear.

"Dude, the hero speech isn't going to work right now." He stood, slightly wavering on his feet. He walked to the table, grabbing John's notebook. "Let's get to work. We still have to figure out who these people are."

Dean stood, relieved to have something to do to keep his mind off what just happened only 5 minutes ago. _Sammy dying right in front of him, nothing he can do. Stop it, Dean._

Sam sat flipping the pages, searching for his father's contacts. He glanced up annoyed as Dean pulled the book away. He reached up, grabbing the book back. "I don't think so." He nodded toward the bathroom. "You're the one who made the mess in there. You get to clean. AndI'm still kinda stiff." Grinning, Sam pulled out his cell phone and started dialing a number from the page. "Besides, I can describe the hunters."

Dean sulked to the bathroom, muttering under his breath. "I'm the one who defrosted your ass and I have to clean up. Geez…"

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Dean sat with book layed out across his bed, sighing in frustration. He wasn't reading themas much as using them to disguise him studying his brother's appearance. He looked… well, like he had died a few times over. Dean sighed, looking at the book in his hand. Not knowing much about Gelu-cruors, he wasn't finding much. And judging from Sam's face, he hadn't had much luck either.

"Okay, thanks anyway." Sam flipped shut his phone and rubbed his face. Seeing Dean watching, he shook his head. "Nothing." He flipped closed the notebook. "Well, almost nothing. A guy named Gary, a werewolf specialist in Utah, said he had heard of a father and daughter who hunted together, but that was back in the 1940s. There was another family who forced their kids into the business, making a lot of bitter offspring. They stopped hunting about 10 years back. There was one more family who passed the hunt down, raising their kids like we were, training and everything. But they disappeared a few years ago."

Dean stood, stretching his back and hearing satisfying pops. "Okay, so it's not as easy asI thought." He looked back atSam, adding casually "So how you feeling kid?" He walked over to his brother, placing his hand on his forehead. Sam pulled his head away annoyed.

"I'm fine."

"Sammy, that's a load of bull." Sam's head jerked up at the harsh, unexpected words. "You are dead on your feet and you gotta rest."

"Dean, in case you haven't noticed, I've been having visions that attack me. My actual body and not justthe friendlyheadaches, which I would take over my new little gifts anyday. Don't worry about me Dean. We have a job to do. There still three people out there that we have to save and you think I look tired?"

"I don't care about those three people Sammy! I care about you! Whatever is doing this is killing you." Dean didn't realize he was shouting into his brother's face, making him cringe back. "I don't know what to do Sam, but I sure as hell am not going to spend another minute on those people. We can't even find them Sammy! I will not let you die because we ignore what is happening to you."

"Sam face grayed, his eyes dropped to the floor in shame and embarrassment. "Dean, I'm not ignoring this. I couldn't if I wanted to, and believe me, I do." He looked up, the look on his face making him look seven years old again. "I'm scared Dean. I'm scaredto fall asleep again cause I don't know what I'll see next. And I don't think I can live through this again. Dean, I almost died." Dean gave an involuntary shutter at the memory. "I just… I can't go back to sleep."

Dean chewed on his inner cheek. "You aren't going to get better by not resting Sam."

He shrugged, but with a small, grim grin playing on his face. "I won't need to heal if I'm dead because I fall asleep."

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Dean sat alone in the bathroom on the edge of the tub. He needed some time alone, but didn't want to leave Sam. He let out a sarcastic laugh. _He might actually get some rest. _It had been two days since the last vision and just as long since Sam and last slept. He wouldn't last much longer at this rate. Dean sighed, making a silent decision, and walked out into the room.

The room was littered with empty coffee cups and bottles of caffeine pills. Sam was on the laptop as usual. Somehow, he had stayed awake all this time, although he never looked as bad as he didright now. His bloodshot eyes had hung half closed for theseveral hours. His face had gone even more ash gray and was almost void of expression. Dean shook his head. He had at least gotten a few hours sleep in the past few days, partly because he wasn't pumping himself up with caffeine and mostly because he needed the rest. _Watching your brother die twice in the past week takes something out of you._ He walked up to his brother and placed a hand on his shoulder. Sam jumped, started at the unexpected and sudden contact.

"What do you want, Dean?" He asked, his weariness weighing down his voice. Dean removed his hand and lifted a glass of water in his other into Sam's line of vision.

"You can't live on coffee alone man. Drink this and I'll go get us some more food." Sam grasped the glass, barely able to lift it. Watching to make sure he drank the whole glass, Dean sat on the bed waiting. He didn't have to wait long, as Sam's head fell to his chest within 10 minutes.

Dean rose, pulling the bottle of sleeping pills from his pocket and gave his unconscious brother a sad smile. "Sorry Sammy, but there's no way in hell I'm going to let you kill yourself." _I'll leave that to the frickin' dreams_. He lifted his brother's feather light frame and placed him on the bed, brushing some hair out of his eyes. _I swear Sammy… I'm not going to let you die._

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The man glimpsed around, quickly taking in his surroundings. A dark forest with half a moon in the sky. Glancing around informed him there wasn't a single house he could see. Looking back at the looming forest in front of him, he sighed. _Well, might as well get this over with so I can get back home to Laura and the girls._ He knew how much Laura desperately wanted him to stay home, worried for his safety. Yes, he hated going out at night, allowing god knows what access to his family without his knowledge. But the rest of the town had hailed him as the best and he could not knowingly turn them away. Something was destroying them and he had to stop it. As usual.

So here he found himself, entering the monster's home to kill it before it could kill his family and friends. _Quite poetic if you think about it, acting almost human. No, not it's not. This thing is nothing like humans and therefore needed to die without the proper rites._ The man shook his head, gripping the spear in his hand. Just kill this thing and get home. Gathering breath, he walked into the woods.

Okay. _Now all I have to do is find it._ The man's thoughts went back to the past night. This thing was nasty; big, strong, and could fly, having witnessed the shadow fall into these very woods after slaughtering the neighbors in their beds. He fought back a wave of nausea at the memory of the bodies of his friends and their baby son. At least what was left of the bodies. Without heads, they would have been hard to identify if they hadn't been in their own home. _Stop it. Thinking of that won't help_. Trotting deeper into the trees, he breathed deeply, sucking in the smells. Only _fresh trees, no decaying body parts. That's a good sign… or is it bad?_

The man whipped his head around at a slight rustle in the trees to his right. Fear danced in his heart, making him breathe faster. _That was fast._ As shadow crossed the tree tops above him, flashing a pair of red eyes. _God give me strength to send this demon back to the hell from whence it came._ His eyes shifted around the trees, searching for the thing before it could attack. Forest did not make the best of places to look for something, but greatly helped the demon. It could watch the scared little human search for hours without making its presence known. This was fun, but failed to reach the goal. The demon was hungry; it wanted another head.

The thing jumped out of the trees, landing ten feet ahead. The man felt his hands begin to shake in fear. He hadn't known what to expect, but in the few years he had been… well, hunting for lack of a better word, he had only come upon a few spirits and a possible werewolf, but never had he actually seen a real demon.

And this wasn't a small demon, something to be squished like a pea. It stood at least eight feet tall with its wings wrapped around its body like a cloak. Any other time, he could have been mistaken for a human, except for the six inch nails and dog-like snout, dripping blood and salvia.

His mouth went dry as he raised his sword. A million thoughts passed by his mind, mostly prayers. One popped out among all the others. _Why the hell am I doing this?_ What he didn't expect was to hear a response emanating from inside his mind. _Because you were born to be._ His eyes widened. _This is not the best time to be going crazy_, he lectured himself. He shook his head quickly, trying to clear his thoughts, (especially that last one), reminding himself there was a demon preparing to pounce standing by.

He gripped his sword. _Okay then. If I'm a hunter, then I'm a hunter. And now I'm going to kill this sonofabitch._ The demon squinted his fiery eyes, taking in the human's physical and mental change. Suddenly, it jumped straight up, becoming invisible in the leaves.

The man shifted, preparing for an attack. _It is toying with me. It wants me to know how superior it is._ Anger began to build in his heart until it burst out in words.

"Come and get me you bastard! One of us is gonna die tonight and it may as well be you! He breathed out, waiting for a response. A growl answered behind him. No thinking, just attack. _Swing the sword, damn it!_ Surprised jolted him back into conscious thought as his sword connected. His eyes widened, jaw dropped at the sight of his sword sticking half out of the demon's chest, having almost cleaved him in half.

The growl grew louder as survival instinct kicked into the demon. It bared its teeth, muscles clenching in pain. A paw flicked out, aiming to rake its claws across the hunter's chest in a final attempt to hurt the human that was killing it. The man quickly leaned back, avoiding the claws by inches. With a warrior's cry, he pulled the sword from the demon's side. With a single swing, he sent the head flying into the trees. The body fell to the ground, bereft of life.

The hunter let go of the breath he didn't realize he had been holding. _I did it. Holy crap (sorry Lord), I did it._ The man started dancing around in a small circle, completely wrapped up in his glorious victory. After a few minutes, he stopped. Laura and the girls will be waiting and he didn't want to keep them up all night worrying. Grinning, he turned around to walk home. Red eyes stared into his a mere four inches away. With all his excitement, he hadn't heard the mate approach. _Oh fu…_

Without warning, she lashed out her tongue, wrapping it quickly around his neck. A single tug and the man's head snapped around, paralyzing him. His body dropped to the forest floor, eyes filled with fear as he watched the mate advance again. _No, please no. I have a family. My girls._ The demon stared down at the human's body. He tried flexing his legs muscles, desperate for some ability to fight back. He was still conscious for the precious moments it took for the mate to reach down with her clawed hands, snapping his head off with a sharp twist. She opened her dripping jaws. _Dinner._

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"**OH MY GOD!**" Sam jolted out of bed, his entire body shaking.

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_Hope the wait was worth it. Please R&R._


	5. Whiplash

_Author's Note: I know this chapter has taken forever to be posted, but I've been super busy with moving and finishing up exams. This one is pretty short, but now that I have time, the next part will be posted in a few days, I promise! Hope it was worth the wait!_

_WARNING: There is an intensely graphic section in this chapter. If you are prone to vomiting from your own imagination, then you have been warned. :)_

_Disclaimer: blah, blah, blah... I don't own Supernatural or the boys, but boy oh boy if I did..._

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**Chapter 5: Whiplash**

"**OH MY GOD!**" Sam jolted out of bed, his entire body shaking. Tears ran down his cheeks at the images he had just felt.

The bathroom door flew open, Dean standing without a shirt and three quarters of his face covered with shaving cream. Sam quickly wiped his face, not wanting his brother to see the angst in his eyes.

"Sam? Oh, God. You had another, didn't you?"

Sam walked into the bathroom, refusing to have eye contact with his brother. He leaned over the sink, throwing cold water over his face.

"What did you see?" Sam clenched his jaw, not yet ready to talk. He grabbed a towel and dried his dripping his face. Before he could lift his head, Dean grabbed his shoulders, twisting his around so Sam would face him. "I'm not an idiot, Sam. Tell me what you saw so I know what I need."

Sam's eyes fell to the ground. "You can't help this one Dean." His voiced stopped in his throat before revealing what he saw. The fear of what Dean's reaction would be was too great. "Maybe you should just… leave. So you don't have to see."

Sam closed his eyes. Sending his brother away was the last thing he wanted to do, but he couldn't let Dean see him in any more pain, either from his growing headache or from whatever it was that would happen after that dream.

"Dude, are you high? There's no way I'm leaving."

"Dean, I'm not kidding. I went through hell watching as you were dying after your heart attack." Sam was practically screaming, unaware of his misdirected anger. "Not being able to help you was the worst thing I have ever gone through. We were lucky to find the faith healer and somehow, I don't think we will find one for this. I won't let you go through the same thing I did." Sam began to pull away, determined not to have to face him. He didn't get very far as Dean slammed his hand into Sam's chest, stopping him in his tracks.

"Well, that's just too damn bad." Dean stood shouting right back at his brother. "There is no way you can deal with this by yourself. You would have died twice over if I wasn't there with your chest growing holes and your popsicle episode. I'm the one who is supposed to protect you, even if that means knocking you out again, which I will gladly do, so don't tempt me. I am not leaving you Sam."

"Fine, then I will. I don't want you to watch me die again!" Sam stalked out of the bathroom toward the hotel room door, his headache finally deciding to teeter off.

Dean started to call out to his baby brother, but only got as far as opening his mouth before Sam stopped dead in his tracks halfway across the room. His breathing was growing rapidly.

"Sam?" Dean took a cautious step, not sure what to expect.

**SNAP! **Sam's head whipped around, too fast for it to be under his own power. Dean gasped aloud at the sudden movement. The brothers locked eyes for a brief few seconds before Sam collapsed to the floor, unable to move.

Dean ran to his side, unaware he was screaming Sam's name. He stopped when Sam didn't move. _No, no please God no._ He placed his hand on his brother's neck, searching for a pulse. He found one. It was faint, but it was definitely there.

"Sam, can you move?" Dean searched his face, trying to find any response. All he could see was Sam's wide eyes darting around. They were filled with panic. A tear fell from Sam's eye; the only response he could make.

"It's okay Sammy. It's okay. You're not bleeding and you can breathe. It'll all be over in a second, like last time." Dean closed his eyes, silently praying it would be true. He didn't see Sam's eyes react to the realization that Dean had no idea what was coming. He opened his eyes as the sound of Sam's breathing stop sharply.

As he watched, the skin around Sam's neck began to break, popping like stitches being pulled apart by an unseen force. A necklace of blood began to flow. The skin curled back, revealing muscles and tendons which snapped a second later. Dean could feel bile rising into his throat as he saw the pulsating esophagus snap like a rubber hose and he could now see the vertebras of his brother's spine. _It'll heal. It will like last time._ Dean could barely pull his eyes from the horrible reality and looked at his brother's face. Somehow, Sam was still alive. His mouth opened slightly in a silent cry for help, but was quickly filling with blood. A crimson river trailed out of the corner of Sam's trembling lips, a final wet bubble bursting in his mouth from his lacerated throat. The tears started to flow as Dean heard the neck bones snap apart. Sam's eyes went glassy as his oxygen deprived body began to fail. Dean turned his head, vomiting across the floor, unable to look back at his brother's now decapitated head. The blood pool started to mix with his vomit, threatening to make him heave again.

Dean didn't know how long he kneeled there, watching the blood inch toward his puddle of vomit, slowly mixing. He definitely did not want to have to look at his brother right now. He wasn't sure he would be able to keep himself together or sane for that matter. His ears told him Sammy still wasn't breathing. _Why wasn't he healing?_ Dean stared up at the ceiling, silently praying to hear the unearthly sound of bones being reattached.

A minute passed. Another minute. Five. Dean's body started to shake, unable to hold back the giant sob welling up in his chest. It had been too long. He was gone. _Why didn't it work this time? WHY THE FUCK DIDN'T THEY FIX HIM?_

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_Hope the wait was worth it. Sorry this chapter was so short, but I want the next couple scenes to be on the same page. I know the imagery of Sam's neck getting ripped apart was a little far fetched, but I tried to make it work. :) Please R&R._


	6. The Choice

**Feel The Pain**

Disclaimer: blah blah, I don't own them, blah blah

_Author's Note: Please don't kill me! I know it has been a month since I last updated. But my stories decided to disappear for a few weeks and my life has been 5 kinds of crazy. And this is pretty much the climax for this version and I wanted to get it right, so I took my time writing it. Please enjoy and come back for the last chapter!_

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_Previously on Supernatural..._

_His ears told him Sammy still wasn't breathing. Why wasn't he healing? Dean stared up at the ceiling, silently praying to hear the unearthly sound of bones being reattached._

_A minute passed. Another minute. Five. Dean's body started to shake, unable to hold back the giant sob welling up in his chest. It had been too long. He was gone. Why didn't it work this time? WHY THE FUCK DIDN'T THEY FIX HIM!_

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**Chapter 6: The Choice**

Sam opened his eyes squinting against the brightness of the pure white that surrounded him. He was lying on the floor, if floor was the right word for the vast whiteness that didn't seem to have a shape. Almost afraid to move, he decided using only his eyes would be a good idea right now. Glancing around, he surveyed his surroundings. _Nothing but white. Okay. What the fuck is going on. Last I remember, I was on the floor…_ Sam's eyes widened in shock. All thoughts of staying still gone, his hands shot to his neck, poking and prodding his skin. _Please be whole. Please don't be bleeding._ A sigh of relief escaped his lips and his hands dropped once more to his sides.

Sam quickly jumped to his feet. If anyone was watching him, they already knew he was awake, so if they were going to attack, better to be upright. Sam looked around, slightly put off by how good he felt.

"Hello?" Sam's voice echoed back, making wherever he was seem even more vast and empty. Sam gave a short snort of laughter. _Is this heaven or hell? No, if this was hell, it would be blaring Metallica or AC/DC._ Sam smiled, but the humor was quickly lost on himself.

"Dean! Can you hear me?" The echo was chilling.

"Sorry Sammy. Only me here." Sam whipped around, the voice coming from behind, which was oddly empty just a moment ago. And there his brother stood, hands in pockets with his smart grin across his face.

"Dean. You scared the crap out of me." Sam walked over, giving him a friendly punch to the shoulder.

"Again, sorry Sammy. I'm not Dean." Sam's eyes went dark and he took a step back, automatically shifting his body into a fight stance. _Shapeshifter._ Dean raised his hand in protest.

"No,no. Let me explain." Sam stayed in the stance, only half-listening to what the thing was saying. "I thought it best to take the form of the person you… feel most at ease with. If you prefer, I could be… John?" Dean's features became hazy. When they sharpened again, the hardened and aged face of his father stared back instead. "Better?"

Sam blinked in surprise. He hadn't know what to expect, but to see his brother not be his brother and then suddenly become his father, but still not was a bit too much to take in at once. Not to mention causing a hell of a headache if he thought about it too much.

"Uhhhh… actually… can you just… be yourself."

John tiled his head slightly. "I'm afraid not. You see Sammy, I'm not actually physically here. I'm simply taking a form that you would understand and people being the easiest." A smile appeared on his lips. "Would you prefer I come to you as a talking apple?" John's attempt at humor barely cracked Sam's shield. "You're right. Father is a bit too touchy a subject. Let's try… a childhood confidant." Once again, his features melted. This time, they will replace with the aged, but lively face of Pastor Jim.

"Better?" Sam nodded, relaxing slightly. _If he was going to attack, he would have while in Dean's body. At least then he would have been physically stronger._ "Alright then, let's get started. Myself and others like me have been watching you, Sammy, for a long time. We have been concerned about your thoughts and believed it to be time to contact you."

Sam's face twisted in confusion. "Wait. What? Who are 'we'? And you call putting me in a white room contacting me? I'd say it's closer to kidnapping!"

The man sighed, calmly smiling in the way Jim would always do when Sam was younger and was caught doing something he wasn't supposed to. "Think of us as… observers. We watch what happens in your reality and if necessary, intervene. We choose no sides, but try to keep a balance. I attempted to contact you several days ago, but due to your abilities, there were some unforeseen complications."

Sam raised his eyebrows as the connection was made. "Are you saying you gave me the vision of that girl being killed by the vampire?"

"Yes. However, the aftereffect was not what we expected. It is our belief that our abilities somehow pushed yours beyond their normal capacity and therefore forced the vision to manifest onto your body physically. Your vision couldn't handle the pressure, and it had to vent itself somehow. We have never had to contact anyone with your type of abilities, thus the unexpectedness."

"Hang on. This is a lot to take in right now." Sam ran his hand through his hair and closed his eyes for a moment, trying to calm his rolling stomach. _Okay, the best defense is a good offense._ "Okay. Few questions. One, where is Dean. Two, where are we. Three, ff my vision nearly killed me the first time, why'd you try again? Four, why are you trying to contact me?" Sam paused and grinned sheepishly. "Uhhhh, that's all for now."

Pastor Jim _(No, he's not Jim… just some freaky mind demon I have to figure out.)_ straightened his back a bit and flashed a slightly impressed smile. "Quite inquisitive, are we Sammy?"

"My name is Sam."

Jim gave a slight chuckle. "Sammy, you forget. We are in your mind and I can read it like a book. You never really hated being called Sammy. In fact, that is the one thing you enjoy bickering about back and forth with Dean. And yes, I did answer one of your questions. I entered your mind a few seconds before you died. My abilities are keeping your body in limbo. If I left right now, without explaining myself, we would have to choice but to let you die. Luckily, we are going to talk." The man smiled and waved his hand to a spot behind Sam. "Please, sit."

Sam spun around and found two chairs sitting in the whiteness. Jim took one, waiting. Sam sat slowly, keeping his eyes on the man. "You a fan of The Matrix or something?"

Jim shrugged and grinned. "You are. And this could be a long conversation and I wanted to sit." Sam rolled his eyes. _This cryptic shit is getting on my nerves._

"Now." Jim clapped his hands together. "Let's just push through this 'cryptic shit' then, shall we?" He smiled at Sam's eyes widen at the choice of words. "And for the record, I am not some freaky mind demon." The man gave a short laugh. "Remember, like a book. Okay. First, Dean is fine, or as fine as can be expected. He is still in the hotel room, waiting for your body to be healed. He has been waiting for several minutes."

Sam opened his mouth, but was quickly silenced by a wave of a hand. "The more you interrupt, the longer he will wait. I believe I already answered where we are, if you understand that." Sam nodded, not saying anything for fear of delay. "As for why we continued to try to contact you, we felt the ends justified the means. Our intent was to give you the vision and then show you the rest when we made contact after you woke up. However, because of your physical state, we could not enter your mind without breaking it. Yes, your visions took an unpleasant side effect, but we healed you easily enough and we felt a second try was worth it. But, as you know, that also did not end well. The third would have been disastrous if I had not managed to get into you in time. Luckily, your mind is stronger than we thought."

The man paused, as if unsure how to continue. He stared, reading how scared and confused the young Winchester was. He almost reached out and grasped Sam's hand, as Pastor Jim would do when the boy was upset as a child, but thought better of it. Sam shifted in his chair, suddenly uncomfortable with the silence.

"Okay." Sam's hands trembled slightly as his brain tried to absorb the vast amount of information he had just been told. "So what did you want to tell me? What was worth almost killing me three times and putting my brother through hell trying to save me?"

Jim's dark eyes bore into Sam's, accepting the angry tone. "What did each vision have in common?"

Sam rolled his eyes, having thought enough about the vision in the last few days to have already figured that out. _Now isn't exactly the time to play riddle-me-this, but whatever, I'll play for now.._ "They were hunters. Like me and Dean."

To Sam's disappointment, Jim shook his head. "Close Sammy. Yes, they were all hunters, but they, even Dean, have all done something you have not."

Sam tilted his head, his brow creasing in confusion. "What?"

The man leaned forward, clenching his hands together. "I'll put this simply for our lack of time. They have accepted it, Sammy."

"What? Accepted it? I have…"

"It's true Sammy. You have not accepted your place in the grand scheme of things. And that is a problem." The man sat up, leaning into the chair, but was in no way relaxing. "Each of those hunters you saw… They all had another life without the supernatural, just like you. But they accepted their fate. They left their old lives and worked toward a greater good. They were destined to fight evil, just as you are. But you are different. You refuse to give up your dreams of a life outside of the hunt. So I am here, Sammy, to tell you to give up those dreams. They are not your destiny."

Sam suddenly stood, fury in his eyes. His hands clenched into fists. "Who the hell are you to tell me what to do with my life? I was never meant to live normally? Never to marry Jessica and have a family? Why should I fight things people don't even believe in? Why can I just be normal! Give me one good reason why not!" Sam shouted into Jim's face, who stared back calmly. So. Infuriatingly. Calmly.

"Because you will die. As will Dean. And hundreds upon hundreds of innocent people."

Sam sucked in a sharp breath, his anger fading at once. He and Dean had always been saving people, but had never actually considered the sheer number. Yes, there had always been a few people to save physically from something, which usually included killing the evil sonofabitch. But the 'what if' scenario was mind boggling. _What if we didn't hunt? What if every evil thing we have killed was still out there? Hundreds of people… And Dean? _Sam's knees suddenly went weak and he half collapsed into the chair, cradling his head in his hands.

"I just wanted to choose my own path." Sam whispered. I didn't want to be my father."

"Even the most undesired and ugly path needs to be walked from time to time." Jim stood, pausing as an idea came to mind. "Would it help to see something? A possible future for you and your brother? One that does not include hunting for you."

Sam looked up. Without warning, the whiteness that surrounded the two men flooded to life, as if the whole room was one huge television screen. Sam's mouth fell open as he saw the scenes flash by, each no longer than a few seconds. He saw himself waking up on the floor healed. He and Dean argued and Sam left. He returned to school and became a lawyer. Jim's voice rang in his ear, cuing the images to change by his word.

"You would become a lawyer, as you so desperately want to be. You would meet a young girl named Jasmine. You would marry after a year and have children soon after."

Sam watched, seeing himself sit in a room, working alone.

"You and Dean would never talk after you go back to school. You would have no idea what he is doing. You would have no idea when he dies."

The scene shifted abruptly. Sam gasped as he watched his brother fight an invisible enemy, crumpling to the ground as his throat was slit by an indistinguishable claw reaching out of the darkness. Dean lay on the ground, his mouth gasping for breath until he was finally still. The scene shifted once more, despite Sam's cry of anguish.

"You would grow old Sammy. You would lose the fitness you have and you would forget. Hunting would not be a part of you anymore."

Jim glanced at Sam, whose eyes were shiny with tears. He hated to continue, but knew it was for the best.

"And one night Sammy, you will come home to find your family being held by a possessed human. You will watch as each member of your family is killed because you could not help." Sam gasped, the tears flowing down his cheeks at the horrifying scene of his family, his wife and three children, being sacrificed right in front of him. "And then you will die, further helping a demonic ritual take place."

The air returned to white as Sam fell to his knees, sobs wracking his chest.

"How… why… how could you… let this happen!" Tears continued to flow, staining his face. "You are supposed to help! Keep a balance! You are killing what is good!"

A glimmer of sadness passed in Jim's eyes. "We do not control Sam. We only observe and intervene when absolute necessary. The intervention for this future is right now. We are not forcing your hand, simply showing a possible result. This may not happen, but it also has just a good of a chance of being your future. You may take the path of not hunting, but not without consequences. For you and for those you love." Jim sighed. How he wished to make the decision easier on the boy. But then again…

"No." Sam slowly pushed himself up, staring the man in the eye. "I won't let this happen. I'll… I'll stay in touch with Dean. I'll keep training on the side…"

Jim shook his head, cutting him off. "Sammy, do you really think we would let you return with the memory of this possible outcome?"

Sam lowered his eyes, the realization hitting him gut. "I won't remember." He muttered. "How can you do this? You tell me the only way for me to be happy is to let everyone die? And it will all be because of me."

"No Sammy. I am simply showing you what will happen if you do not accept who you are. Your path was chosen long before you were even born. You were placed on it early in life, and yet you still fight it." Sam ran his hand through his hair, his eyes darting back and forth as his mind worked through all the possibilities. "I know it cannot be easy. You want to believe you are in control of your life. But there are bigger things than an individual person. And yet that one person can make the biggest difference. It is a conundrum which will never be solved."

Sam raised his head, looking the man in the eye. Understanding sat behind his eyes. "I know."

As soon as the words left his mouth, the whiteness began to fade. It was slowly replaced with a deep sunset purple. Sam looked around in amazement. The man nodded.

"You've made your decision. It's an unconscious choice Sammy. And even if you won't remember this, you have accepted your place. Your mind will be at peace." The man stepped forward, his image beginning to take on a haze. He grasped Sam's hand in his own.

"Thank you Samuel."

At the man's touch, Sam felt a warm numbness overtake his body. His eyes slid shut and the purple became black.

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_Hope the wait was worth it and believe me, I know it was a long wait. The end was slightly inspired by the old fashion Deux et Machina way of ending a story, in which one thing fixes everything in the story, usually a God descending from above. Hope this wasn't too much of a cop out, but I like the idea that the cause wasn't evil in intent. I must have rewritten this chapter a hundred times and it has turned out completely different than I originally pictured. Hope you liked it. Please R&R. One more chapter to go. But come back for Version B!_


	7. The Calm After the Storm

**Chapter 7: The Calm After the Storm**

Summary: When Sam's visions begin to evolve, Dean will have more to worry about than just headaches.

Disclaimer: blah blah blah blah… I don't own them, I make no money… blah blah blah

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_Previously on Supernatural:_

_A minute passed. Another minute. Five. Dean's body started to shake, unable to hold back the giant sob welling up in his chest. It had been too long. He was gone. Why didn't it work this time? WHY THE FUCK DIDN'T THEY FIX HIM!_

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"_You've made your decision. It's an unconscious choice Sammy. And even if you won't remember this, you have accepted your place. Your mind will be at peace." The man stepped forward, his image beginning to take on a haze. He grasped Sam's hand in his own._

"_Thank you Samuel."_

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A car rolled by, flooding the dark hotel room in light. Dean sat on the floor, his back against the bed, head between his knees, slowly rocking while one thought was repeated in his mind over and over for the past hour. _One more minute. I'll give them one more minute to heal him. Then I'll find the bastards who did this and give them a taste of their own frickin' medicine._ Dean's head moved up slightly, just high enough to see the body… _my brother… that empty shell_… still lying in the blood pool. He ducked his head back down. _One more minute. I'll give them one more minute…_

A small creaking in the floor boards had Dean diving over the bed, instinct taking over his grieving body as he swung around, knife flashing. Nothing. The room was just as empty as it was an hour ago. No wait. Something was different. Dean looked own again, praying to find Sammy looking up at him with the puppy dog eyes Dean pretended to hate.

His eyes teared up once more in disappointment. _No. There he still is. Lying there, covered in… nothing? No blood?_ Dean's eyes widened. _There had been blood. Lots of it. Where'd it go?_ Dean scurried over the bed, practically smashing in his nose as his foot caught the bed cover. He landed on his hands and knees, his face a few inches from Sam's. _I have to be going crazy_.

A small river of blood tricked from Sam's neck. No, not from. To. Into to be specific. Like a movie playing backwards, the last of the blood puddle was sucked into Sam. Dean swallowed back a scream as what appeared to be a large worm slithered out of each end of his brother's neck. Squinting in closer, he saw it was more a tube than a worm. _Oh my god, it's his esophagus. It's happening._ The tubes met each other and almost in a kissing embrace, fused the ends together. The tendons and muscles began to stretch, pulled toward its own torn edge, joining together once more. They began to pulsate, filling with blood and turning a healthy pink. Dean blinked, his eyes darting wildly as the skin sucked itself together, making a small pop sound every few inches, as if invisible stitches were being formed. As the skin sealed itself off, the redness slowly faded, the white scar disappeared. But still Sam didn't move.

Dean felt like he had been holding his breath forever. He leaned in, placing a shaking hand against his brother's newly healed throat. _Please have a pulse. Please God let him have a pulse._

"AAAAHHHHH!" Sam's eyes shot open, his mouth gasping for air. Dean's hand snapped away, his body practically leaving the floor as he jumped back, startled… well, scared shitless more likely… at the unexpected movement and noise filling the silent room. It took a whole 2.3 seconds before returning to Sam's side, whose hand had sprung to his chest as he gasped in panic, his eyes darting around the room.

"Sam? Come on Sammy." Dean leaned forward once more, placing a hand on Sam's face, the other grabbing Sam's flailing hand. "That's it brother. Don't panic. Just breathe." Sam took in breath after shaking breath. His eyes finally rested on Dean's face.

"It's okay Sammy. Take it nice and slow." Dean sat, slowly rubbing Sam's cheek, watching as the color returned to his face and his breathing returned to normal. Dean barely felt the tears fall down his cheeks.

"Dean." Sam's voice croaked as if it hadn't been used in a year instead of an hour. "I'm okay? I'm alive?"

"Yeah, Sammy. You're alive." Dean pulled Sam half-way up, almost going to hug him, but instead decided to check his neck for marks instead. _This past week has been like a Lifetime Movie of the Week, no need to keep it running._ "Let's get you off this floor 'cause my legs are kinda falling asleep."

Sam rolled his eyes. _Leave it to Dean to start cracking jokes right after I almost die. And a bad joke at that._ Sam pushed himself up the rest of the way, waiting for the usual gut-wrenching dizziness that would always accompany his visions and his most recent brushes with death. A smile crossed his lips when the room stayed upright and he managed to get himself to the bed with minimal help from Dean. Sam lowered himself onto the bed, slowly working his shoulders loose, attentively rolling his neck.

"Dean, stop staring. My head isn't going to fall off. Again." Dean winced, putting his focus onto his hands picking at the bed sheets. Sam frowned. _Maybe I should have used a bit more finesse. Dean has to have been scared to the core for him to be so quiet._

Sam averted his eyes, suddenly deciding his jeans were terribly interesting. "So… how long was I out?" He glanced up, checking for any type of reaction.

"Too long." Dean clenched his jaw and stood. It was obvious he didn't want to be talking about this.

"Dean. Tell me."

"Tell you what?" Dean paced the room, looking everywhere except at his brother.

"Tell me what is ripping you apart. You are never this quiet and we gotta talk about this. Cause if you don't, I'll just keep pushing and pushing and if you still don't tell me, I'll keep pushing and pushing…"

"Sammy, I don't know if I can do this again." Dean blurted out. His eyes widened as he realized what just came out of his mouth. _Shit. Backpedal time._ "It's just… I don't think your body can take this anymore. I mean, you almost didn't make it this time and we still don't know what is hurting you."

"Dean… it'll be okay."

'No Sammy, it won't. I mean, what's healing you? And how long will it stick around if you keep getting hurt? It took you almost an hour to come back Sam. I had to sit here and wait for some unknown thing to heal my brother because I couldn't do anything! My brother was lying on the floor dying and I just sat there! I broke Sam! I can't do that again!"

Sam sat with his mouth gaping open, not sure what he should say or do, afraid anything could tip his brother over an edge. Dean stopped pacing the floor, taking a moment to realize what he had just said. He had never before admitted feeling helpless, let alone weak to his brother in his entire life. _Why can't I just… why can't I deal with this like everything ELSE!_ With that thought, Dean slammed his fist into the hotel wall, breaking through the drywall and plaster.

Sam jumped up and was by his brother's side as he pulled a bloody fist from the wall.

"Dean?" Sam touched his shoulder. "Dean. It's going to be okay."

Dean turned, his fist forgotten. "You can't know that Sammy. Next time you could wake up and… and… your body could be blown apart for all we know!"

Sam smiled gently. "Dean, I'm not exactly sure what happened while I was… gone… but I know it was good. I… I can't remember. But I… My feelings are hardly ever wrong and you know it. I feel like… like I know what to do now." Sam shrugged and looked away for a moment. "I don't know how to explain it Dean. It just feels better. And I'm pretty sure we don't have to worry about me blowing up anytime soon, okay?"

Dean looked Sam in the eye, worry filling his face. "Prove it."

"I can't tell the future Dean." A grin pulled at the corner of Dean's lips, threatening to make him laugh. Sam rolled his eyes. "Okay, so sometimes I can. But I'm telling you Dean. Believe me. Whatever happened in the past few days is over. Let's just be thankful and move on. And forget about all this."

Dean sighed, finally allowing himself to release some of the tension he had been holding for week. He pointed an accusing finger in Sam's face. "Alright. But if you're wrong, then I'm going to kick your ass."

Sam grinned. "Okay, deal. Jerk."

"Bitch."

Sam walked to the hotel table, grabbing the first-aid kit. "Come on, let's clean up your hand and hit the sack. We haven't exactly been getting a lot of sleep lately."

"Well, that's not exactly my fault, is it Psychic Boy?"

Sam rolled his eyes, not giving his brother the satisfaction of eliciting a response.

That night, Dean rolled over on his bed, staring at his brother. Sam was dead asleep, his body unconsciously facing his brother's bed. As Dean watched, Sam twisted slightly, straining against something unseen before settling again. Dean sat half way up, ready to jump to his brother's aid. Some was different though. Dean squinted, double checking before settling into the pillow, giving himself over to exhaustion. _Yup, I'm not imagining it. Guess it really is okay._

Sam lay on the bed, unmoving. A smile was on his face, the usual pained tension was obviously absent. For the first night in a long time, he had no nightmares.

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_And that's the end! (Trumpet flourish) Hope everyone liked it… this story will always hold a special place in my heart as it was my first. However, if you didn't like how the story panned out, then you can give it another go with Feel the Pain Version B. The story will be titled as such and will have a lot in common with Version A (first chapter will be exactly the same), but will still be different. I'm going to wait a bit before posting as I want to write a few chapters and post them together. So please go visit Version B if you wish and don't forget to R&R! Thanks again to everyone who reviewed and waited for this story._


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